Downton Ashy
by Erik Andave
Summary: In an alternate universe where black is white, a royal visit is the only hope for the future of Downton Ashy.
1. Chapter 1

Bernard McCollough, fifth Lord of Spookshire, looked out the ornate windows of Downton Ashy at the fields of white slaves, toiling away across his palatial estate. He looked nothing short of ballin' in his three piece purple suit with matching bowler, every bit the Lord his father was, and his father before him, but not his great-grandfather. He was a raggedy-ass nigger, and was expelled from the House of Lords for dropping a plate of pig's feet on the Queen. It was a disgrace to the family name and it took three generations to fully restore the Lordship of Spookshire to a place of honor and prominence. Without Downton Ashy it wouldn't have been possible. Undoubtedly the most majestic and beautiful estate in all the Kingdom, Downton Ashy had hosted the royal family and various foreign dignitaries on numerous occasions, but, alas, failing family fortunes put the future of Downton Ashy in jeopardy.

"Sumumabitch..." Lord Spookshire muttered, pouring himself a snifter of aged malt liquor. He owned hundreds of white slaves, but black cotton wasn't the market it used to be, not like during the heady boom period of the War. There was only one hope for the future, and it hinged on the success of the upcoming royal visit.

"You rang, m'lord." said bumbling manservant Herman Caine, entering lord Spookshire's bedquarters.

"I trust all is in order." the Lord asked.

"Yes, m'lord." Herman Caine responded "All is prepared for the evening arrival of King Leroy Da Fif. The pigs have all been slaughtered, we took the feet, ears, tail, intestines, and jowels, and threw all the leftover useless meat to the white slaves. It will truly be a feast fit for a King!"

"Excellent." the Lord said "Everything must go off without a hitch. My family's legacy, and the future of Downton Ashy depend on it. The king believes he has traveled to Spookshire merely to hunt fox and get crunk, but I have other motives. I aim to propose a marriage pact, that my daughter, the Lady Twi'Kondaneeshqua, enter into a shimmy sham with Prince Barkevious."

"That's marvelous, m'lord." the bumbling manservant said "Of course a bootylicious young noblewoman like Lady Twi'Kondaneeshqua would marry a young strong black royal who can get it like Prince Barkevious, and not a bumbling manservant who has loved and cherished her for years."

"Are you crying?" asked the Lord.

"No, m'lord." Herman Cain said "My eyes are sweating."

"Disgusting!" Lord Spookshire hollered "Begone from my bedchamber, and send Madea to clean up the puddles. This is undignified."

"All apologies, m'lord." Herman Cain said, running out of the bedchamber.

"Don't run!" the lord yelled after him "It, too, is undignified."

It was true, when Herman Cain ran his booty twerked in a most unpleasing fashion.

Lord Spookshire lit a cigar, and opened a Heineken. Black people love Heineken. What's up with that? I think it's because it's the classiest beer at the gas station.

A knock came to the bedchamber door.

"Come in." said the Lord

Madea entered. She stood in the doorway, six-foot-seven-inches of voluptuous glory. All the men in Downtown Ashy, from the highest noble, to the lowliest servant, to the whitest slave desired Madea, but only one man could have her, and he was the only man who knew her secret.

"Oh lerd, I heard dere were some puddles needed cleanded!" Madea scream-spoke, rattling her head around.

"No, my dear," said Lord Spookshire. "There are puddles I need you to make."

"Oh lerd!" moaned Madea. The two black stallions embraced. Madea fell into Lord Spookshire's strong black masculine arms. She tore open his three-piece purple suit to reveal his powerful chest muscles, glistening like onyx in the moonlight. Lord Spookshire, gripped Madea's badonkadonk with his powerful apelike hands.

"Oh, Lerd!" moaned Madea "Eat it like a watermelon, massa!"

The Lord spun her around, and bent her over his fancy ass bed with them comfy sheets. He pulled Madea's skirt over her thunderous cheeks. Her ass hung like two cannonballs. Lord Spookshire licked his thick lips and dove in. You know how brothers be lickin' da booty!

"Oh, lerd!" she moaned in ecstasy "Oh my lerd! I'm so herd! Play with my balls."

Lord Spookshire reached around and tug gently on Madea's heavy nuts, all the while lapping the sides of her black hole with his wide flat tongue.

"Oh my lerd!" moaned Madea.

"Oh mammy!" grunted Lord Spookshire, dropping his pants all the way down to his gator shoes. He removed his thick black snake from his under trousers. It stood, three hands tall, veiny and menacing, pearls of pre-cum oozing slowly from the tip.

"You ready, nigga?" he said "I'm bought to plow yo forty acre wit my mule!"

"Oh lerd, I best be gettin one a dem dere reacharounds!"

"Of course!" said Lord Spookshire "I ain't no faggot."

Bernard McCullogh, fifth Lord of Spookshire shoved his mighty mahogany log deep into Madea's damp dark tunnel of black butt mud.

"OHHHHH LEEEEEEEERRRD!" Madea moaned through the long stroke.

"OHHHHH LEEEEEEEERRRD!" she moaned again, as Lord Spookshire reached around to wrap his large sausage fingers around Madea's rigid staff of black magic which was even even thicker, veinier, longer, and blacker than the Lord's own dark horsecock.

He stroked her as he thrusted, keeping perfect rhythm. The combination of the deep dick and the long stroke was almost too much for Madae to bare.

"OH LERD!" she moaned

"OH MAMMY!" he grunted

"OH LERD!"

"OH MAMMY!"

"OH LERD!"

"OH MAMMY!"

"OOOOOOHHH MYYYYY LEEEEEEEEERRRRDDDDD!"

"MAMMY! MAMMY! MAMMY!"

They came together, Madae's thick ropes of white cum shot out of her throbbing black rod, flooding the comfy sheets of Lord Spookshire's nice ass bed.

Lord Spookshire's thick ropes of white cum shot out of his throbbing black rod, flooding the cavernous insides of Madea's rectum, mixing with the brown raging rivers of dookie and dripping slowly out of her anus and down her balls, falling with a splash to the floor.

The Lord stepped away from that unsavory afterbirth. He put his trousers on, redressed, and adjusted his purple three piece suit, looking just as ballin' as before.

"I trust as always, that you can keep this on the down low."

Madea didn't speak, but she didn't need to, from across the bedchamber, her asshole winked at him.


	2. Chapter 2

2 Downton 2 Ashy

Lady Twi'Kondaneeshqua, eldest daughter of the Lord of Spookshire, stood before the full length polished metal mirror in her bedchambers in the palatial estate known as Downton Ashy. Her four inch acrylic nails. Her hair freshly did. Her redonkulous bootyliscous body, 240 pounds on a 5'2" frame and ALL ass, poured daintily into the tightest of leopard print dressed.

"DAYUM!" she said "I look firm like a motherfucker!"

"You're beautiful as always m'lady." spoke Precious, Twi'Kondaneeshqua's morbidly obese lady-in-waiting.

"I need mo' cocoa butter." Twi'Kondaneeshqua hollered, examining her skin.

"I'm afraid Downton Ashy's cocoa butter stores are dangerously low, m'lady." Precious said.

"You ain't spose'ta eat it, fat bitch!" Twi'Kondaneeshqua screamed, flinging an Downton Ashtray at Precious's head.

"I'm sorry, m'lady." Precious, wheezed, kneeling to pick up the ashes.

"Don't worry 'bout the ashy floor, fat bitch!" Twi'Kondaneeshqua said "Worry bout my ashy ass elbows. Ain't you know I'm tryin ta get busy wit da prince."

"I'm sorry m'lady. I'll find you more cocoa butter, right away m'lady."

Precious left the bedchambers, Twi'kondaneeshqua gave her a nasty ass look.

"Fat bitch, wish she looked as good as this. Holla! I'ma get me sum a dat big Prince Dick tonight!"

Twi'Kondaneeshqua was gonna get her some of that she was sure. Her father, the Lord Spookshire had explicitly told her not to give it up before the arrangements for the royal shimmy sham were in place. But fuck dat, Twi'Kondaneeshqua was a big beautiful strong black woman and even if she ain't need no man, she still had needs, needs those small dick havin' white slaves couldn't fulfill.

"I'ma get filled da fuck up!"

There was a gentle rapping on her bedchamber door. Not rapping like hip hop. That's racist that you would assume that. Rapping, like knocking.

"Who dat!"

"It's Herman Cain, m'lady."

"Ugh, whatchoo want?"

"I've been instructed to escort you to the grand hall. The royal party has arrived."

"Oooooh girl, I'ma get my grind on!"

Twi'Kondaneeshqua opened the bedchamber door.

"Whatchoo think nigga, do I look like da baddest bitch or is you straight trippin'"

Herman Cain's eyes welled with tears. He loved her. He had loved the Lady Twi'Kondaneeshqua all of her adult life, and most of her adolescence. he wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees, confess his feelings, and propose his own shimmy sham. But alas, it could not be. It was not his place. She was his highborn lady, and he was but a servant.

"Yes," Herman Cain said, "You're the baddest bitch I've ever seen."

"Ugh nigga, is you eyes sweating?"

"Yes, m'lady."

"Eww, dat nasty! Get the fuck away from me, nigga. I walk to the grand hall by my own damn self."

"Yes, of course m'lady." said Herman Cain, walking away slowly.

"Run, nigga!" she yelled.

"Sorry, m'lady" Herman Cain apologized, running, his booty twerking in a most unpleasant fashion.

Twi'Kondaneeshqua laughed her big black ass off when she saw that shit, an irritating black lady laugh that sounds likes she's screaming. Still, it couldn't've been that funny or she would have got up and done laps around the room.

"Where da fuck dat fat bitch at wit my cocoa butter?" she said, walking to the grand hall. "That fat bitch gettin' on my last nerve. I ain't get it deep from da prince cause my elbows ashy I'ma beat da fuck outta dat fat bitch."

"Child, shut you mouth!" a dark voice hollered.

It was her father, the Lord of Spookshire, he was dressed in a canary yellow zoot suit, fur coat, and pimp cane. He looked like a balla of the highest magnitude.

"The Prince is waiting. Don't fuck up this shimmy sham for me or I'll beat the black off of you. I will not lose Downton Ashy!"

""Whatever, daddy. Ain't no Prince bout ta be turnin dis down, I beez in da trap!"

"I'm gonna kill these damn kids, 'Merica!" the lord said, to no one in particular.

They walked into the grand hall. Heralded by the royal hype-man.

"Yeeeeeeahhhh Boooooyeeee! Make some noise for the Lord of Spookshire, the master of Downton Ashy, the one the only, Bernard McCollough! and his daughter, she fly as fuck, she fine as fuck, she a bad bitch and she firm like a motherfucka! Put yo hands in da air for Lady Twi! Kond! Uh! Neeeeeeeeeeeeshqua."

They entered to find the King and hier to the throne standing in waiting.

"Ya'll know dis nigga!" The royal hype man said "But I'ma introduyce him anyway. He the biggest, da baddest, da blackest, da most ballenest mo'fucker in all da Kingdoms. He's da King a Da Nubians, Da Afrikaanz, De Negroids, and Da First Men Representin House Jenkins, scream until yo lungs get sore fo King Leroy! Da Fif of his name!"

King Leroy looked gangsta as fuck. He wore a zebra striped three piece suit, two fur coats, one was a lion, and one was a pimp ass white tiger or some shit, he held a diamond encrusted pimp chalice in one hand, and a solid gold pimp cane in the other. All his fingers were iced out, his crown was made of platinum and had all kinds of motherfucking rubies in it and shit, but what was most ballenest of all was the piece around his neck, a solid gold life size replica of King Leroy's own head, with its own, slightly smaller crown, and spinning rims for eyes.

Lord Spookshire and his daughter bowed in the prescence of the King. One of Twi'Kondaneeshqua's titties popped out.

"And this nigga next ta him!" the royal hype man continued "Dis nigga bad as fuck too. He big, he black, he diesel, he swoll, he cut, he keep it real an' all dat. He da Prince a Wales, da Duke a Rothsay, da Earl a Chester, da Duke a Cornwall, Earl a Carrick, mo'fuggin Baron of Renfew, Lord a da Isles, Prince and Great Steward a Scotland, Royal Knight Companion of da most mo'fuggin Noble Order of the garter, Extra Knight of da old as fuck and noble as fuck order of da thistle, but most importantly, he CAN GET IT! Ya'll best come correct ta da Crown Prince Barkevious!"

The Lady Twi'Kondaneeshqua, fat black pussy lips instantly moistened as she lay eyes on the dieseled and swoll body of Prince Barkevious. Dis nigga looked just like Ray J! He wasn't dressed as fly as his old man. He wasn't even wearing a shirt. Just sum jeans, slung down way low, his boxers holding back that sweet meat.

"Yo titty out, girl." Prince Barkevious spoke, licking his thick black face lips.

"Shit, nigga! I sorry!" Twi'Kondaneeshqua said, trying to tuck her titty back in the dress that was way too small for her, and failing.

"Ain't a thing, girl." the Prince said, licking his lips some more.

"Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiitttt." said King Leroy Da Fif. "Downton Ashy look mo' swag than ever, nigga."

"Thank you, your grace." said Lord Spookshire.

"Shit, cuzz'n. Let's get sum a dat pork yo been promisin' a nigga. Let these two get mo' acquainted."

"Shit, daddy." the prince said, liking his lips like a whole bunch. "I'm all 'bout that."

"Oh, nigga. I bet you is." said Twi'Kondaneeshqua letting her titty just flap in the breeze now.

Lord Spookshire left with the King, but not before shooting his daughter a stern bug eyed look, a look that could only be interpretted as "Don't be a chickenhead."

She left with the Prince, but not before shooting her father a defiant look, that could only be interpreted as "Fuck you, daddy. I'ma drain dis nigga's balls."

They retired to Twi'Kondaneeshqua's bedchamber, falling into a lover's embrace, big wet lips smacking together like two innertubes. Twi'Kondaneeshqua's hand explored the Prince's hard obsidian abs. She gasped as she felt that BBC growin in dem jeans.

"You gon eat dis pussy nigga?" she cooed

"Bitch is you trippin?" the Prince said in disbelief "I ain't no faggot. Suck my fuckin dick."

The Lady Twi'Kondaneeshqua dropped to her knees and did what chickenheads do, taking Prince Barkevious's massive mahogany rod to the back of her throat.

"Ugh... bitch. Suck that black dick. Ugh. choke on it girl." The Prince said.

"Cgghlllcghhllll" said Twi'Kondaneeshqua.

The whole time she was suckin his dick he just kept looking at himself in the mirror, licking his lips. Always with the lip licking.

"Turn around, bitch." the Prince said "I'ma chuck dis spear in ya bootyhole."

Twi'Kondaneeshqua got up, turned around, and bent over the bed, peeling her dress up over her thunderous cheeks. Her fat black ass cheeks stuck to the dress, like when a candy bar melts a little and sticks to the wrapper. Her ass hung like twenty gallons of cottage cheese in a two fifteen gallon Hefty bags. That visual would have grossed Prince Barkevious out, if he was any good at math.

"UGGHHHH!" Prince Barkevious screamed, beating his chest like a big ape, recklessly shoving his enormous half hard, flopping fuckrod into Twi'Kondaneeshqua's loose dark bootyhole.

"Oh shit nigga, das dat gooooooood dick!" she squirmed

"I'ma beat it up, mammy." the prince said slammin Twi'Kondaneeshqua's giant jiggling asscheeks like the righteous nightsticks of the LAPD slammed repeatedly into the deserving face of Rodney King.

"Oh, get it nigga!"

"Ugh, shut up bitch!"

"Oh, get it nigga!"

"Take it yo nasty ass hoe!"

"Nigga, fuck dem cheeks, nigga."

The screamed and fucked into the night. Herman Cain slumped outside the bed chamber door, using his tears as lubricant to stroke his pitiful tiny pecker, which was so small, smaller even than the smallest white slave.

"Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh Shhhhheeeeeeeittttt!" Prince Barkevious screamed like a little bitch when he nutted. It was really high pitched.

"What da fuck?" asked Twi'Kondaneeshqua, all indignantly. "Nigga why you screamin like a girl. You best not be done."

"Bitch, chill the fuck out." said Prince Barkevious,

"Oh hell naw!" yelled Twi'Kondaneeshqua, head rollin around, hand in the air "I know you ain't talkin to me like that. You think you a hood nigga, how a girl sposeta get a nut off wit yo high pitch screamin tow pump chumpin ass?"

"Hoe, you ain't all dat." said the Prince.

"Oh, shit nigga! You best not be talkin dat shit to me when we in a shimmy sham!" she yelled.

Prince Barkevious laughed his big black ass off when she said that shit. It was so funny he got up, ran a few laps around the room, and sat back down.

"Hold on, bitch." he said, getting up and heading towards the door. "You must be mistaken. I ain't a shimmy sham kind of man. Now where the white slave women at?"


End file.
